


paparazzi

by sangi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:38:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3387107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangi/pseuds/sangi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She closes her eyes and wishes she was somewhere else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	paparazzi

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2010, posted again here for archival purposes.

The sun rises and the sky is stained orange and red and purple.

Somewhere, Ursa turns over under black silk sheets that slither over her skin. An arm is slung over her waist; fingers softly caress her stomach.

She closes her eyes and wishes she was somewhere else.

* * *

 

Her eyes are a bright gold and she is possibly the most stunning child that he has ever seen. The young prince watches as she laughs and rips off small pieces of bread before throwing them into the small pond. The turtle-ducks rush to the bread, fighting each other to nibble on the crumbs.

Footsteps behind him make crunching noises in the grass. Iroh comes up to stand next to Ozai. “She’s very pretty, isn’t she?” the older boy asks.

Ozai does not look at him. “Yes,” he responds. “Beautiful.”

* * *

The youngest prince leans back against the wall and watches his brother give a flourish of a bow. The young woman smiles shyly before accepting the flower he offers her.

Ozai cannot hear the words, but he has heard them so many times that he could repeat them from memory:

“This flower cannot compare to your beauty,” Iroh will say with a charming smile.

Ursa will smile and blush. “Thank you,” she will whisper.

And she will adore him.

Ozai’s upper lip curls in distaste.

* * *

 

Ursa leans against a cold marble column in the large ballroom. The middle of the room is filled with dancing couples; their feet make the smallest of tapping sounds on the floor, but the laughter drowns it out. They swirl by in shades of red and black.

In her left hand she twirls an empty champagne glass. She watches as Prince Iroh charms a young woman across the room.

Ozai walks up slowly to stand next to her. He takes the glass out of her hand and sets it on an empty tray. She glances over at him, gold eyes narrowed. “Who is your brother talking to?”

“His fiancée,” Ozai says.

Ursa’s eyes turn dark.

* * *

 

“No,” she says angrily. “I cannot believe you would ask such a thing of me.” Her back faces him.

Ozai rests his hand on her shoulder, and lets it caress down her bare arm. “Come on,” he croons. “You know that you cannot have him; his wife is pregnant. He will not have you.” His smirk is cruel. “But I’m better than nothing, aren’t I? A consolation prize?”

Ursa says nothing.

He turns her face so that she must look at him. The prince presses the smallest of kisses against the corner of her lips. She shivers.

“Marry me, Ursa,” he whispers.

* * *

 

In front of them stand two tall doors, red and black and utterly forbidding. Her hand is tucked into the crook of his arm, and they both wear red and crimson robes with gold ornaments in their hair.

Her body shakes uncontrollably. “I can’t do this,” she says breathlessly. “Let me go, let me go - ”

The now-princess attempts to pull away, but Ozai keeps a tight grip on her arm. The doors begin to open, and bright white light shines through onto their faces. From outside the yells and applause of the crowd reach them. “It is too late,” he warns. “You have made your decision.”

Ozai pulls Ursa forward to the doorway. “Smile,” he orders her.

They step into the sunlight.


End file.
